Chappy 13
by Random Fandom
Summary: Some interesing mail arrives. An old friend returns. A SocGreaser tragedy, and a cool car. (Boy do I suck at summaries.) Rated PG for a half page of blood, and a couple of fakey curses. R&R if you'd be so kind.


Dislaimer: I own Bud and Kris, sort of. The rest belongs to the wonderful imagination of S.E. Hinton. 

A/N: This was supposed to be my English project. My teacher liked it, apparently. She read it to the whole class! -__- I was sooooo embarrassed. It's a missing chapter at the end. Chapter 13. Hope you enjoy it. R&R, if ya do.  
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I had just finished writing in my composition book when Darry walked in.

"Pony, you got a letter." He called.

Stopping in the middle of the room he looked around. In disgust, Darry said, "This place is a pigsty. Clean it up, will ya Pony?"

"I was busy with homework. What do you want from me?" I countered.

"Good grades, and a clean room." Darry tossed the envelope at me, and turned to leave. On the way out he stumbled on a book, and nearly fell over. Cursing, he continued on his way.

I looked around. The wool covers were pulled all the way back on the bed. Light shining from between the disheveled blinds fell on piles & piles of books. On every inch of carpet and on the back of every chair dirty laundry rested, thrown carelessly as the owner changed. I supposed Darry was right, but what do you expect with two teenage boys living in the same room? 

As I slowly straightened up the room, I read the note addressed to me. It read:

__

Dear Pony,

_How ya been? Just blew back inta town. Heard 'bout the dead 'ems. Bad vibe. Stupid __*$#@ing__ Socs. Can't believe they're still hasslin' ya. Sees ya soon._

Your Pal,

Joey R. Matthews A.K.A. Bud

I stopped sliding books across the floor with my foot. Bud was back in town. Bud was Two-Bit's little brother, and the same age as Johnny. As Johnny had been. Bud used to be a member of the gang, but had moved away a year ago. The fuzz had been after him for a robbery. I couldn't remember much about Bud, 'cept that he was tall.

__

I sighed, and restarted my task of cleaning. It was about 6:30. Soda came home and, as usual, checked the mail. I heard a loud "Yehaw", then Soda came flying in.

__

"What is it, Sodapop?" I asked, trying to get him to stop hopping around the room.

__

"It's Sandy! She wrote to me!" Soda answered, ducking my tackle and still hopping around the room.

__

"Well hurry up and open it." Darry said as he dashed in.

Soda did, and it read:

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Dear Pop,

_I have something really important to tell you. I do want to marry you. My parents said I couldn't until you were seventeen. But now you are, and I do. One more problem. The Socs. Until the fights stop, I can't come back from Florida. Sorry._

Yours Forever,

Sandra Lisley

Soda reread the note 4 or 5 times, then sunk onto the bed.

__

"How do I stop the fights?" Soda asked, bewildered.

__

"Don't ask me. Pony's the smart one. Ask him." Darry commanded.

I just stared blankly. Was there a way to stop the mini wars? It didn't seem possible.

Luckily I didn't have to answer the question. Just then Two-Bit popped in. 

"Hey, Curtis'. How you doin'?" Two-Bit asked, but didn't wait for someone to answer.

"Look. It's Bud."

Bud walked in behind Two-Bit. He was tall with a lean figure. Bud had bright blue eyes, which contrasted with his dark brown hair. Greasy, of coarse. He was a Greaser. Bud was kinda muscular, and had a smirk on his face. I noticed that as he walked up to us, Bud had a limp. He was wearing baggy blue jeans, and a tight black shirt that showed his abs. 

"Hey Curtis'. How's it goin'?" Bud asked, but unlike his brother he gave us time to answer.

"Soda just got a letter from Sandy. She wants him back. For keeps this time." Darry told the Matthews loudly.

"Wow! What's the note say?" Bud asked.

Soda reread the note to them, and Bud had some interesting comments.

"What if she's just yankin' your chain? It could be a joke." Bud said, and Soda's grin fell for the first time since he had got the letter.

"I don't think Sandy's like that." I mentioned.

"All gals are like that. Just look at what my lady did to me when she heard I was comin' back here." Bud indicated his injured leg.

No one said anything. Soda looked like he was ready to cry. Darry looked as if he would punch the living daylights out of Bud. And Two-Bit was torn. Bud was his brother, but Soda was his loyal friend. I thought there was going to be a fight between the three of them, so I quickly asked about dinner. Darry walked off rather stiff-legged to prepare dinner.

That night we had Chinese take-out. Two-Bit paid for it, and we all ate in silence.

The Matthews stayed the night. Two-Bit slept in Darry's room, Bud slept in me and Soda's room, and we slept in the front room. I got the couch, Soda took the easy chair, and Darry slept on the floor.

We were awoken the next morning by a scream. It was about 8:30. All of us Curtis brothers rushed in to the first bedroom. This was the bedroom that belonged to Soda and I. Bud had been sleeping in it. But Two-Bit stood in the door way. As I looked in, I gasped in shock.

It was a sickening sight. The window was busted. Blood covered the bed, and some of the floor. One of the bigger pieces of glass was bloody too. In the midst of it all lay Bud.

Bud was bleeding from a very large wound on his chest, just under the neck. His right leg was all twisted in the wrong direction. It looked as if he'd be getting a black eye.

Two-Bit just stood there unable to move. Darry grabbed Bud, and headed for the door.

"We gotta get him to the hospital." Two-bit said, waking up.

"Pony you stay here, and we'll come back for you later." Soda said, jumping into the driver's seat of our grey van in the driveway.

__

Darry got in the back, and carefully buckled Bud into place. Two-Bit got in beside his little brother. I heard the sound of an engine roar through a cloud of dust, and then watched the van drive off.

I stayed at the house for another 3 hours. During this time I had a lot to think about. Who had attacked Bud? Had they meant to get me or Soda, and made a mistake? Why would they want to hurt Bud? All these questions and more buzzed in my head. The most important was who.

I went back to the scene of the crime. For about an hour I searched for clues. I came up empty handed once, twice, three times. I started desperately to look for a fourth time when the doorbell rang. Thinking it was Soda or Darry coming for me, I rushed over and opened it. It wasn't Soda or Darry.

It was a Soc. He was short, only about 5"4, and had a goofy grin. He had blonde hair and blue eyes. He was handsome, muscular, and lean. 

"Hi," he said, "Look I have something very important to tell you. I was in on the jumping that happened here last night. I didn't hurt that kid, but I didn't stop it either, so I'm just as guilty. I got a car. I'll drive you guys to the hospital. If you need it." 

"Darry and Soda already left." I said, blankly.

"Oh, well then. Need a ride?" the boy said, indicating a blue 1966 mustang. 

"Wow. Okay!" I said.

He smiled at my obvious wonder. "I'm Kris. And you are?"

"Ponyboy. Call me Pony, everyone else does." I said.

"Alright, Pony. Let's go."

Kris leaped in the back seat, and I bounded in the passenger side seat. He started the engine. It whined for a moment, then we were on our way.

"How old are you, Pony? 16?" Kris asked.

"14." I blushed at being considered 16. Then I asked, "How old are you?"

"18. But I'm only in 11th grade. Got held back a year."

"Really? I got skipped. I always thought of Socs as smarties that could ace every test." I said.

"I always thought of Greasers as people who got F's and got held back." Kris answered.

For a moment we just looked at each other. Then Kris focused back on the road, and we didn't speak again until we were at the hospital.

I never liked hospitals, and I never will. There's just something about them that gives me the creeps. Even more so after Johnny had died. Maybe it's the sterile whiteness of it all. Whatever.

This hospital was exactly as I had remembered it. White. Sure there were some pictures placed here and there to make the patients feel more comfortable, but that was it. Just white.

At the waiting room to the hospital, we were met by Soda and Darry.

"What are you doing here, Pony? We told you to stay at the house." Darry stated.

"Who's this?" Soda asked.

Kris quickly told them who he was and what he was doing there. I noticed he seemed to glance at me a lot for reassurance. 

"Okay, as long as you weren't the one to hurt Bud. Two-Bit still might clobber you, but you'll survive it." Darry said, then added in an undertone, "He's not even that good of a shot." 

Just then Two-Bit entered. He had come from one of the side doors.

"Bud isn't in that great of a condition. He's got a bunch of bruises, and a black eye. Not to mention that huge cut on his chest, and his right leg is broken. Doctor says that he might not make it." Two-Bit complained sullenly.

Two-Bit sank down into one of the chairs. He looked nearly in tears, and that was rare. 

"I'm sure he'll be okay." Kris commented without looking at Two-Bit

It was just then that Two-Bit noticed Kris. He gave him a questioning glance, looked him up and down, then gasped.

"You're a Soc! What are you doing here?" Two-Bit shouted.

"I was in on the beat-up. I didn't hurt him though. It wasn't supposed to go this far. It was just supposed to be a joke. On Soda. My gang knows he works at the DX, and they were annoyed he gets all the girls. It was just supposed to be a beat-up, but when Tom saw that it wasn't Soda, he got mad. He slashed that kid with a shard of glass from the window." Kris busted. He hadn't told us all this, but he told Two-Bit.

I noticed that Kris was looking at me to reassure him this was the right thing to do. He was also balancing on his toes, and running his hand through his hair. I guess he must have been worried. I know I would.

Two-Bit got up to tackle Kris, thought better of it, and just fell back into his seat, his head in his hands.

"Hey cheer up, Two-Bit." Darry tried to comfort, "Got a joke for you. When is a cat it's biggest?"

Quickly getting the point, I asked, "When?"

"When it's let out!" Darry concluded before chuckling to himself.

"What did the pet leopard say after eating his owner?" Soda asked.

Everyone but Two-Bit asked, "What?"

"That sure hit the spot!" Soda answered. Everyone but Two-Bit laughed.

"Come on Two-Bit. I know you know some good ones." I griped.

After a moment's hesitation, Two-Bit questioned, "What's a cat's favorite type of car?"

"What?" Kris prompted.

"A cat-illac!" Two-Bit proudly answered.

After that everyone had a good time laughing and telling jokes. We seemed to forget our troubles, and forget that Kris was a Socs, and forget that we were Greasers. At least until the doctor swung by.

"Your friend will live. He's very lucky. But he can't leave this hospital for a week. And he has to use crutches for two weeks after that. Still, he's alive, and that's a miracle." then the doctor left.

"Listen Pony, listen guys," Kris said as if he were one of us, "Come to the park in your half of town tonight. We finish this now. I can't take it anymore. Bring all the Greasers."

With a nod to me, and a turn on his heel, he too was gone.

"Wonder what that was all about." Soda voiced everyone's thoughts.

Later that night we assembled at the park. Darry had called Tim Shepard, and Tim had called the Brumly boys. Practicaly every Greaser in town was there.

The trees rattled in an otherwise undetectable wind. Grass swayed beneath our feet. The streetlamps were the only source of light, and, like everything else in our neighborhood, they needed to be fixed. So it was almost pitch black at 9:30 when the Socs showed up.

It looked as if Kris had brought the whole West side. Every Soc I knew was there, and some I'd never seen before. I saw Randy, and waved. He waved back, then fixed his attention on Kris.

Kris had gotten up on a boulder, and had cleared his throat. Everyone from the West side stopped chatting immediately. Apparently Kris was kind of worshiped on the West side.

"My friends," Kris began, "both Greaser & Soc, I come before you to propose a truce. Today a Greaser was nearly killed, and, as I'm sure you all know, Socs have died in the past." Here Kris paused for Bob's memory.

"This cannot go on. I believe a truce should be called. If you agree, then no one shall be called a Greaser or a Soc any more. No one among us shall attack another, with the possible exception of self-defense. It's over, and no one wins." Kris finished.

The eighteen-year-old teenager walked over to Two-Bit. He stuck out his hand, and offered to shake. Two-Bit accepted it.

Then Kris called out loudly, "Truce."

"Truce." Everyone shouted back.

Then the West-side kids walked home, and the East-side kids walked home. I turned back and waved to Kris. He waved back. Cherry was walking next to him, and she blew me a kiss. I just smiled.

Now Sandy could come back, and marry Sodapop! Soda would have the biggest wedding. Everyone would be there. It wouldn't be the best, but by golly, it would be the biggest. I'd have to beg Soda to invite Cherry. Maybe he'd invite Kris and Randy too. Maybe a bunch of Socs. Whoops! I mean West-siders. Yah. He'd have to, because I wouldn't leave him alone until he did.

"Hey, Ponyboy. Get your head out of the clouds before you run into a poll or something." Darry called back to me. I didn't.

I was glad to have met them. Bob, Cherry, Randy, Kris. They made the truce possible. 

It was over. A truce had finally been called, and we had put an end to all this stupid violence. It may have been the long way around. But it was over. 

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Alright. A little messy and difficult to understand, but I was going for the impress teacher approach. ^__________^ Toodles! 


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